Are We Poems?

by on October 14, 2020 :: 0 comments

The story is writing you,
you are not writing the story.
The poem is your life
your life is not a poem.

Your life is many poems
perhaps an epic
of a wily adventurer

perhaps a sonnet
of a doomed love affair
a sun quickly setting.

Perhaps a poet is writing this
perhaps a failed comic
is stuttering it on a grand stage
as tomatoes rain down.

This poem is not being written
this poem is writing the world.

This world is only stories
this world is only dreams
an intricate bouquet of
milkweed, chicory, Joe Pye weed

that words strain to capture
flickering ghosts on a video screen

without writers there is no world
without a world no writers.

This world is flitting
always on the edge of

This world is eternal
it will outlive us all
all of us who create it.

editors note:

Gods and us, avid readers all. (This poem is included in Ethan’s recently published collection, “Words for Things Left Unsaid,” available from Kelsay Books. Read Mike Fiorito’s Mad review of it. Then get your own copy from Amazon or directly from the publisher here. Check it out!) – mh clay

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